


Delivery

by AirgiodSLV



Series: 28 Lotrips AUs Challenge [8]
Category: The Lord of the Rings RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-04-18
Updated: 2006-04-18
Packaged: 2019-07-20 12:14:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 882
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16137017
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AirgiodSLV/pseuds/AirgiodSLV
Summary: “I’m Orlando,” the pizza guy says, at the same time that Elijah stammers, “Keep it,” and attempts to shove the money back into Orlando’s hand.





	Delivery

**Author's Note:**

> AU #15, for [](https://kraken-wakes.livejournal.com/profile)[kraken_wakes](https://kraken-wakes.livejournal.com/), who gave me an excellent excuse to finally finish this. A happier ending to [Preen](https://archiveofourown.org/works/16136642/chapters/37702037).

“That’ll be $11.99,” the delivery man says, and Elijah’s already ready with the cash, a greasy, wrinkled $20 bill in his outstretched hand.

“D’you want change for that?” the man asks, head cocked enquiringly. Elijah shakes his head, but the man doesn’t seem to notice, digging in his pocketed money-belt for bills.

“Elijah, right?” the man asks conversationally, and Elijah looks up from where he’d been studying the man’s hands, surprised.

“Elijah Wood, I remember from the order, and I had you last week. Do you remember?”

The brown eyes look so hopeful that Elijah is loathe to say no; and he remembers the accent, if not the face, so he nods his head in response, still silent.

“Quiet one, aren’t you?” the man comments, holding out a handful of crumpled bills.

Elijah reaches to take them and the man grabs his hand instead, startling Elijah into a quick jerk back. The man’s expression says he’s noticed, but he doesn’t say anything about it, just shakes Elijah’s hand and gives him the money.

“I’m Orlando,” the pizza guy says, at the same time that Elijah stammers, “Keep it,” and attempts to shove the money back into Orlando’s hand.

Orlando ignores the awkwardness, waving his hand in dismissal. “Nah, mate, you need it more than I do, looks like. I’ve had you a couple of times now.”

Elijah extends the money again with near-desperation and somewhat confused motives, unsure of whether he wants to tip Orlando well for at least trying to be nice, or just shut him up and get rid of him.

“Fact is,” Orlando continues obliviously, “I looked for you, this last time. Not supposed to be on deliveries tonight, I was taking orders. But when I heard you on the phone and remembered, I asked Sean if he’d take over for a bit, let me take this one.”

Elijah wonders if Orlando realizes how little of his monologue Elijah is actually understanding. Something of his confusion must be showing on his face, because Orlando gives him a faint smile and says slowly, clearly: “I rather fancy you, mate.”

Elijah blinks.

“And if you’re not into that sort of thing,” Orlando says hastily, at Elijah’s look of complete bemusement, “You look like you could use a friend. I mean, can’t we all,” Orlando says philosophically, and flashes his white, even teeth in a wide grin.

“I’m sorry,” Elijah says slowly, mouth struggling to remember how to form the words. Orlando’s face falls, but he seems to shrug it off in an instant, finally offering the pizza box in what looks like final capitulation.

“No worries, mate,” Orlando says cheerfully, while Elijah takes the box gratefully and his stomach rumbles at the smell, knotted almost to sickness. He can’t remember the last time he ate …was it really last week? He can’t remember.

“I had to try,” Orlando says, bringing Elijah’s attention back, and he grins again, taking a step back off of the stoop. Elijah realizes with a start that he’s leaving, and his stomach clenches on something else, not hunger and not relief.

He’s taking a half-step forward before he realizes it, wings spreading defensively, and he knows he’s made a mistake when he sees the expression on Orlando’s face change to one of complete open-mouthed shock.

“Blimey,” Orlando says, awed, “Are those real?” He doesn’t sound horrified or disgusted, just astounded, and Elijah’s wings spread shyly in response, feathers fluffing with reluctant pride.

“Yes,” Elijah states calmly, and opens the door a bit wider, no longer hiding. His wings tremble a little, impatient to be groomed.

“They are, aren’t they? Cor, always knew there were angels, just didn’t peg you for one. No offense,” Orlando adds hastily, raising a hand. “I just thought you’d be easier to spot or something.”

Elijah doesn’t know what to say to this, so he stays quiet, wings fluttering anxiously under Orlando’s interested gaze.

“You don’t look like you eat enough,” Orlando says critically, and Elijah holds the pizza box mutely, lost for words.

“I have to spend a lot of time cleaning them,” he explains, and Orlando nods, frowning briefly before his expression clears into glee.

“Well, I reckon two can do the job faster than one, can’t they?” Orlando muses. “I can help, if you like.”

“No,” Elijah says immediately, and his wings snap shut behind his back, trembling with tension.

“Oh,” Orlando says, and waits for Elijah to say something more before adding, “All right, then.”

“They don’t like being touched,” Elijah tells him, and at Orlando’s dubious look, clarifies, “Not by anyone else.”

“Right then,” Orlando says again, and only pauses for a moment before adding, “And how about you?”

Elijah just stares.

“Like I said, had to try,” Orlando says quickly, and his smile is easy, but his laugh is forced, a tad brittle. “Anyway, I’m sure I’ll be seeing you…”

“Wait,” Elijah says. He clutches the pizza box to his chest, suddenly starving. Orlando stops, hopeful look back in place. Elijah misses _touch_ suddenly, remembers it and wonders for the first time what it would be like to feel Orlando’s hands on his body.

“I’d like that,” Elijah says finally, forcing his voice to work. “Please. Stay.”

Orlando smiles, and Elijah’s wings spread slowly with joy.


End file.
